


Walking In A Winter Wonderland

by afteriwake



Series: In So Few Words [197]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Fluff, Gloves, Hands, Happy Molly Hooper, Holding Hands, Inspired by Fanart, Leather gloves, POV Molly, POV Molly Hooper, Pink Gloves, Pinkies, Romantic Fluff, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Fluff, Sherlock Taking Molly Home, The Long Way Around, Walking, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:50:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Molly thinks about the first time Sherlock held her hand in public...or at least most of it.





	Walking In A Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisherz365](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/gifts).



> There is a gorgeous piece of Sherlolly art that I will link to after the protest, but it Molly and Sherlock holding pinkies as they walk together at night, and I just realized I owed **daisherz365** a fic with the prompt " _holding hands_ " so this fic is what came of it! Enjoy!

The first time they held hands, they didn’t even really hold hands. It was a cold night and he was walking her to the Tube station by Baker Street, or rather the long way there. She didn’t mind, though; the quietness in the air as a light snow fell was rather nice, and it was crisp but not too cold, and just pleasant. She knew when she got home she’d curl up with a mug of cocoa in her hands and Toby on her lap and smile as she thought over the utterly amazing conversation that they had had and the rather gourmet dinner he had cooked (even if she had suspected he’d cheated _just_ a little).

But she didn’t mind the time alone. Now that wounds, physical and emotional, had healed. Time alone was good. There wasn’t the awkwardness left after the admission that had been wrenched from her, and there wasn’t the worry that all of the troubles could and would happen again. All was quiet, all was peaceful, all was good. And time alone with Sherlock was most definitely one of the things that made life these days good.

They still hadn’t had their first kiss, and she didn’t mind waiting. Waiting was something she was good at when it came to Sherlock. Waiting was something she had done for a long time and waiting had been worth it in this case for what she had, and if she had to wait a little longer for physical intimacy of any sort?

So be it.

But she didn’t have to wait for her hand to be held, at least, or part of it. He grabbed her hand and stopped moving, pulling her hand up higher and removing one of her hot pink gloves to match her scarf. He pulled each finger off slowly so the glove didn’t turn in on itself, and then tugged the glove off and held it in her other hand before gently lowering her hand in his. And she waited just a moment as he tugged his own glove off, being careful not to drop hers, on the hand that had been swinging next to hers as they had walked. After a moment, his leather glove was being clutched against her pink one in his hand and in one fell swoop after, their pinkies were locked together and he took a step, giving her hand a slight tug saying “Follow me.”

And she did, and she would, and they walked in this quiet winter wonderland, hands linked at the pinkies as though they were making some sort of promise to each other, hands and arms swinging in near unison as they moved closer and closer to the Tube entrance. And she felt a happiness warming her cheeks that she hadn’t felt in oh so long, a happiness that warmed her from the top of her hat covered heads to the bottoms of her booted feet, a happiness that said he does care, he does, and he’s willing to show it and I love him, I love him, I do.


End file.
